The year was 1967,and as was considered normal in the Daniels household,Mom,Grandma,my brothers and I gathered in front of the TV to watch CBS Reports. My mom was a firm believer in the Daniels boys keeping up to date on current affairs. This particular episode focused on the cultural events taking place in the Haight-Asbury District of San Francisco and what was known as "The Summer of Love"
The folks flocking to Haight-Asbury seemed to look at life in a different manner than many Americans at the time. They dressed differently. They listened to different music,but most importantly,these "hippies" as they were called, seemed to challenge many accepted notions of American life. My mom, a Civil Rights and Democratic Party activist also was one who challenged certain notions of American life,but what we were seeing on TV was different. My mom attended meetings to change the world. These folks seemed to think that music and love was going to change the world. On the program,it was said that perhaps the reason these people looked at the world differently was because of their rampant use of marijuana.
It was at that moment,I spoke out. "If marijuana helps people become peaceful, I said, "then maybe it's a good thing" The words were barely out of my mouth when I realized I had said the wrong thing in front of my mom.
"If I EVER,find out you smoke marijuana she said "then woe be unto you." When mom said "woe be unto you", it amounted to the most serious offense in her eyes.
In 1968,the Vietnam War was raging and a soft spoken,rather intellectual poet and Senator Eugene McCarthy challenged incumbent President Lyndon Johnson for the Democratic nomination for President. McCarthy ran on an anti Vietnam War platform. Many "hippies" got involved in the McCarthy campaign and got "Clean for Gene". Johnson later withdrew from the race,and his Vice President,Hubert H. Humphrey became a candidate carrying the Johnson banner. In 1964,my mom worked for the Johnson-Humphrey ticket. Hubert Humphrey was her political hero. As a seventh grader,I spent my weekends stuffing envelopes and leafletting for the McCarthy campaign. A rumor was going around at the time that with so many hippies behind the McCarthy effort,his campaign headquarters were a hotspot for marijuana smokers. I never witnessed any marijuana smoking at McCarthy headquarters,but my mom,partially out of parental concern,and partially as a Humphrey supporter looking for ways to discredit the McCarthy effort would interrogate me about marijuana use when I would return home. "Woe unto you if I find out you are smoking marijuana at McCarthy headquarters." she'd say.
In eighth grade,at Mark Twain School,I'd go to school wearing a suit jacket and sometimes a tie and I would carry my books in a briefcase. I'd also wear a "Nixon's the One" button. Because I went to a different school in seventh grade,no one knew I had volunteered for McCarthy previously and that my Nixon button was part of my protest. There was one student however who seemed to see through me. Deborah Caskey. She told me,she knew I was a hippie and she would invite me to her house after school where we could smoke weed. I said no,but Deborah,like my mom seemed to sense I was a pot smoker in the making.
Fast forward to 1972 and my senior year in High School. Marijuana smoking had been widespread since my sophomore year. I had not smoked it myself yet,but one of the things I had done was to read information about it both pro and con. One of the pro marijuana pieces I had picked up was a book titled "A Child's Garden of Grass" It was funny,quirky and much more interesting than any other piece of literature I had read on the subject. After reading the book,I knew it was inevitable that I would try marijuana. At this point,seeing as I had been accused and interrogated enough on the subject I felt as if I had nothing to lose if I tried it.
In 1972,the Senior class at Watkinson School went on a camping expedition at Lake George in the Adirondack Mountains in Upstate New York.Teachers knew that students would drink on this trip and attempted to place limits on the amount of alcohol brought. Of course high school students were going to exceed any limits and our first night in the outdoors was nothing short of a debacle. I drank everything that came my way..beer,wine,tequila,and it didn't take long before I began to feel sick. Most students were by then to drunk to notice I was in trouble. There was one exception however.
Her name was Roberta Markowicz.She had come to Watkinson for her senior year after the school she attended previously,The Austin School, had folded. Watkinson was a private college prep school,and most of us prep school students had a certain "air" about us. Not Roberta. She was rather down to earth.In talking with her,it was clear she didn't really like prep school life The drinking was taking place in a cabin. When I stumbled outside to get some fresh air,Roberta followed me out and stayed with me till I felt better.
While the days on this trip were full of hiking,canoeing and observing nature,the evenings were full of drinking and high school debauchery.The second night of the trip was turning out much like the first. As students were beginning another night of drinking in front of the campfire,Roberta tapped on my shoulder and asked me to come with her.
I remember her words."I have something that's better for you than alcohol" as she along with another student,Lori Redfield took me to their tent. It was inside Roberta and Lori's tent where I saw my first marijuana joint. I immediately enjoyed the aroma the joint had.
We smoked two joints that evening. I felt nothing from it that night,but I knew and understood life was not going to be the same from here on out.
